


Scars

by RaeDMagdon



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Oral Sex, Scars, Vanilla, melding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-06
Updated: 2017-10-06
Packaged: 2019-01-09 19:43:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12283128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RaeDMagdon/pseuds/RaeDMagdon
Summary: There are dozens of scars on Shepard’s body, and Liara loves every single one.





	Scars

**Author's Note:**

> For smutcation: "Could I request a body appreciation fill for smutcation please? I feel really down because I have very visible scarring and I just feel like I need to see more acceptance of it, even just in fiction... If you could do Liara really appreciating and still being so attracted to Shepard post-war, scars and all, I'd be much obliged."
> 
> As always, I'm @raedmagdon on tumblr and twitter.

There are dozens of scars on Shepard’s body.

There’s the jagged one near her shoulder—a Brute’s claw that slashed through her armor and sliced down to the bone. The skin beneath her left breast is pockmarked—shrapnel from an explosion on Tuchanka. Her right side is burned badly—splotches of shiny red skin from radiation exposure that didn’t heal quite right. And, of course, there’s her stomach. Her toned, muscular stomach, with a streaky bullet wound just off-center.

That’s the scar Shepard came back with after defeating the Reapers on Earth. And that’s why it’s Liara’s favorite.

She runs her tongue along that scar slowly, reverently. The raised flesh doesn’t upset her, not anymore. Instead, Liara is grateful. It’s proof that Shepard is alive. That she survived. That the whole galaxy survived. That scar is the reason why those words Liara whispered to Shepard all those years ago— _“Shepard, I am yours,”_ —weren’t the last ones they shared.

A sigh comes from above her, and Liara shudders as Shepard caresses the top of her head. Shepard’s palms are scarred too, with smaller white bumps that aren’t easy to see, but that Liara can feel whenever Shepard touches her. She has grown to love those hands all the more for their flaws, and as they caress her neckfolds, she continues lower.

Liara kisses a trail downward, following the scar on her stomach until it ends. Shepard’s hips haven’t survived the war unscathed either, but they _have_ survived. A burnt spiral there tells the story—back on Sur’kesh, Shepard didn’t manage to dodge a dragoon’s whip in time. Liara pauses there, breathing in her bondmate’s smell. It’s sex and sweat, but also something like home, and her eyes water as she draws it into her chest.

The scars on Shepard’s inner thighs are subtler. Hardly visible, Liara can only see them when she ducks beneath Shepard’s knees. They’re a series of short scratches, barely raised from the skin—shards of broken glass Shepard had accidentally fallen onto during the infamous destruction of the Citadel’s finest sushi restaurant. Liara always has to stifle a laugh and kiss them when she sees them. That had definitely been a bad day, but they’d gotten through it together.

Then, she turns her attention to Shepard’s lips. They’re pink and parted already, dripping with wetness. She swipes her tongue through them, gathering as much slickness as she can for a taste. Her hands slide beneath Shepard’s backside, squeezing the firm cheeks—and feeling a slightly raised circle where a Trooper’s stun baton caught the small of Shepard’s back.

“Liara…”

Shepard’s rasping moan keeps Liara from teasing too much. She swirls her tongue around Shepard’s entrance for a moment, just enough to get the flavor, and then sucks Shepard’s clit into her mouth, fluttering her tongue over it in a light but insistent pattern. She knows she’s found the right stroke when Shepard’s hips roll insistently into her mouth.

Liara stays there a long while, drinking Shepard in. She could do this for hours, she’s sure, if Shepard would let her. She’ll never tire of the taste, the smell, the sounds: all more evidence that Shepard is alive and well, right by her side. Shepard’s nails scratch the back of her crest, and Liara adds a bit more pressure. She doesn’t mean to tease—she’s just enjoying herself too much to rush.

“Liara,” Shepard says again, much more insistently.

Liara looks up. Shepard’s green eyes are gazing down at her—and the thin white scar through her left eyebrow stands out. But it’s the need in Shepard’s irises that captivates Liara most. They’re darkening almost like an asari’s, although Liara knows that’s impossible. Still, she can sense what her bondmate wants, and she isn’t in the mood to deny either of them.

There is no need for Embrace Eternity. Liara simply sinks into everything that is Shepard, and Shepard welcomes her with open arms. Their souls greet each other, two halves of a whole uniting. Shepard has scars here, too—intense trauma on the landscape of her psyche. Liara has them too. Horrible memories, marks of grief and rage and bitter despair. But they’ve healed over, and now, their scars fit together, interlocking like puzzle pieces.

 _It’s okay,_ they think. _Everything is okay now._ Maybe they shouldn’t need to give each other such assurances so many years later, but they both still need it, so they do. And it helps.

They establish a rhythm together, Liara’s mouth and Shepard’s hips, until both of them quiver like a string pulled taut. The flood of feelings is intense, and so are the physical sensations: the wet heat of a mouth, the desperate clutching of fingers. Threaded through it all is love, a love that blinds everything else with its light. Their love has scars too, but has grown even stronger for them.

 _Love you,_ they tell each other, diving deeper into a world that has room only for the two of them.

It’s enough. They come together, gasping, and the part of Liara that hasn’t bled over into Shepard feels a flood wash into her mouth. She savors it, as well as the ghost of her own tongue between her legs. Shepard’s pleasure is hers, which is just as it should be. They’ve earned this, and they have the marks to prove it.

Their release lasts a long while. They’re so tightly entwined that neither of them wants to leave. Only after a long minute of twitching aftershocks and emotional reassurances that don’t even require words do they part enough to speak, but they can’t bear to sever the meld completely.

 _‘I love you,’_ Shepard thinks again, in her own voice.

Liara smiles, placing one more kiss on Shepard’s clit. _‘I love you too. All of you.’_ She climbs up along Shepard’s body, skipping the scars she lavished attention upon before, until she reaches Shepard’s lips. These are not scarred, but smooth and warm as she slots her mouth over them. She loses herself in the kiss, and warmth floods her body like sunshine breaking onto her skin.

There are dozens of scars on Shepard’s body, and Liara loves every single one.


End file.
